


Three Against One

by Krayolacolor



Series: Creepypasta x Readers [10]
Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: Creepypasta x Reader - Freeform, F/M, Gen, Lots of lore in this one too, Reader-Insert, interconnected story, part of a series, reader has DID, religious trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:40:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29640360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krayolacolor/pseuds/Krayolacolor
Summary: A month is a very short amount of time to find out You have DID, get kidnapped by a mad Doctor, and fall in love. It's a good thing You have plenty of time to handle it, as long as You didn't miss an appointment.
Relationships: Dr. Smiley/Reader
Series: Creepypasta x Readers [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2177397
Kudos: 3





	1. How you Meet

**Author's Note:**

> Key:  
> (y/n) = your name, (P1) (P2) (P3) = Personality names 1-3, (Y/f/m/l/N) = Your first, middle, last name, (e/c) = eye color (f/c) = favorite color

You sigh, shuffling your feet as you walk down the street. Today was, just like most days lately have been, horrible. Even when things go your way, you just can’t feel happy. Something about your life just doesn’t feel like it’s yours, it feels like you are living someone else.

You recently have been diagnosed with D.I.D. or Dissociative Identity Disorder. You have three other people living in your head. (P1), (P2), and (P3). They were okay, the blackouts were annoying and forgetting important things sucked, but overall you could live with it, you have since you were little.

As you walk you groan, your head is killing you, just pounding, you shut your eyes tightly as you walk. You stumble and are about to hit the ground when someone catches your arm, pulling you back up.

You blink in shock as you are put back on your feet, still a bit dizzy, but stable enough to stand. You look up to see a tall man, dressed in a black dress shirt, black tie, a gold cross necklace, and a stark white doctor’s coat. You look up a bit more to see slicked back read hair above hypnotically beautiful deep red eyes framed with black wire glasses and a small smile.

Something in you changes and the small, quiet, and very timid personality of (P1) takes over, but you’re still watching as she draws back.

“Th-thank you…” (P1) stutters, trying to stand straight, but swaying slightly, you can feel a blackout on the way.

“It’s quite alright, dear.” He says giving you a quick once over. “Are you okay? You look pale, are you sick?” The man asks, you don’t really like the undertone in his voice, but (P1) doesn’t seem to notice.

“I-I’m fine… I just have a condition, it makes m-me bl-” As if on cue the world becomes blurry and the ground is once again rapidly coming up to meet you. You feel arms wrap around you and a deep chuckling, then everything is black.

Drowsily you blink open your eyes trying to make out the surroundings. Even with your muddled mind you instantly realize the situation as you feel the cool metal underneath you and the cuffs binding your wrists. Immediately you can feel control shift from you to the brash, outspoken, and defensive personality of (P2).

Your body snaps awake and begins to struggle against the cuffs.

“My, my, you’re up early. Why, what’s the matter dear? You look angry.” The tall man says as he walks over wearing surgical gloves and holding a scalpel. 

“Who are you and what do you plan on doing to me?” (P2) growls at the man who smiles brightly showing off his sharp white teeth.

“Why, I’m Dr. Smiley, and may I ask what happened to the timid girl? Though I guess I like you better, more fight, more fun!” He smiles wider.

(P2) is about to shout that he didn’t answer the second question, but the calm cool demeanor of (P3) takes over. Your lungs expand and fall as your body sighs heavily and your eyes close for a moment before opening.

“Well if your intent is to kill me get on with it, might as well. At least then my death will be interesting. The others can’t stand the thought of dying in some stupid way like slipping on an orange peel.” (P3) says with a calm tone and even a slight smile.

At the sudden change Dr. Smiley looks down at you extremely confused. “Um... can you pick one? Are you timid, angry, or disturbingly calm?” He asks leaning over you. “You said you had a condition, what is it?” 

“D.I.D. or Dissociative Identity Disorder. I’m (P3), but there is also (P2) the angry one, (P1) the timid one, and (Y/n) the host.” (P3) explains and Dr. Smiley listens, fascinated.

“My my, dear, I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting a subject with something of this sort.” He puts down the surgical instrument and takes off the gloves before holding out a hand. “Smith is my formal name, it’s my pleasure to meet you Miss.” He smiles before laughing. “Oh my bad, you’re still a bit tied up.” He reaches behind you and unhooks the cuffs.

You look at him wearily, rubbing your wrists, for a moment as you are now back to yourself. Hesitantly you reach out and shake his outstretched hand.

He smiles warmly, much different from his borderline psychotic smile from before. “Of course, I can’t kill you now, your condition is something I must study alive, my it’s been a long time since I’ve done this!” He says almost giddy with an excitement you didn’t understand.

“Umm… excuse me?” You ask confused.

“Well, I’m going to let you go on the condition that you speak nothing of me and come back to see me on a weekly basis so I can study you.” He explains with a bright smile.

Quietly you weigh the consequences of each option and come to the conclusion that it is more likely for you to live through this if you agree. You nod, “Fine...”

“Oh good!” Smith claps his hands together once before going to grab a piece of paper, he quickly jots something down then hands you the paper, “Meet me at this street corner every Friday at nine pm, starting next Friday.” He pulls you to your feet, off of the table, and walks you to the door.

You’re about to ask a question, but he quiets you. “Don’t miss a single meeting and don’t be late, I would hate to have to come looking for you, for your sake.” He smiles and pushes you out the door. “Next Friday at nine.” Smith smiles then closes the door behind you.

Upon looking around you see that this is exactly where you had been before you blacked out, you turn around to stare up at the building you pass almost everyday, the one you had always assumed was empty. You shiver as you start walking home once again.


	2. Are We Friends Yet?

You look down at the paper in your hand, that pretty kind of messy doctor's handwriting reading, _"Corner at 5th and May St. 9:00pm. Don't be late."_ Then you look up at the intersecting signs reading Fifth and May St.

(P1) says this was a bad idea and you should have called the police. (P2) says if you see him you should kick him in the nuts and book it before he can retaliate. (P3) says to keep your cool and get out alive.

Your head hurts from hearing them bicker and chatter and whine.

But fortunately, or rather unfortunately, as your watch ticks over to 9:00 another set of shoes steps into your vision, you hadn't realized you were staring at the ground until the shiny dress shoes appeared. With a squeak you jump back, looking up at the man before you.

The doctor, maybe not actually a doctor, smiles, "Look at you, Miss, early to our appointment. Excited?"

"N-No?" (P1) answers.

"Oh well, I guess that's alright too, come with me, we've got a lot of things to talk about tonight." Smith pulls out a paper from his coat, "Let's start with your full legal name."

It takes you a moment to reply as you register (P1) slipping away from the front of your mind. "Oh… (Y/f/m/l/N)."

Smith writes it down and nods to himself, "Great start, Miss, let's get going shall we?" He gestures to the street, the meeting place a few blocks from the abandoned building.

When you arrive at the building Smith proceeds to ask you questions, your life, your hobbies, your work, your medications, your other personalities. He writes it all down in papers he slides into a folder marked with your initials and "L3" after a round of questions your curiosity gets the better of you.

"What's 'L3'?" You ask.

Smith looks up from his papers, pushing his glasses up his sharp nose and smiles, "L is for Live, you are only the third live patient I've studied. Quite a feat, as I've been conducting my research for years now."

"Years? You don't look a day over twenty-seven."

"Twenty-seven? Hmmm, I… I don't quite remember how old I was when it happened. It was… such a long time ago." Smith taps his lip in thought crimson eyes staring down at the papers before him. "I hadn't written down the year then, silly mistake, I guess I'll never know." He shrugged but looked back at you with a smile, "Where were we, Miss?"

You look at him in a quiet confusion, this man, "Dr. Smiley", "Smith", whoever he was, seemed to be quite a mystery. You, as well as your three alters, seemed to agree the mystery of him was just too much to ignore. You almost smile back at him, but catch yourself, "Something about keeping me alive, if I'm correct." You lean back in the soft old chair sitting in the office in the back of the building.

Smith laughs softly, "From what I've gathered you are correct, Miss."

The topic shifts again, but your mind wanders back to what he said still, about not remembering when "it happened" and you wanted to know what "it" was. "Smith?" You ask quietly, as you tuck a strand of your (h/c) hair behind your ear a bit nervous.

Smith looks up at you from his papers a bit surprised that you addressed him, "Yes, Miss?" He asks politely, fixing his glasses over his nose once more.

"Would you mind if I asked you questions as well?"

The man blinked at you before he laughed, "Why would you do that?"

You turn your head and (P1) takes over nervous and blushing, "We want to know more about you…?" She says unsure.

Smith hums, looking at you with a slight hint of hesitancy, "Alright," he says slowly, "but, I can and will refuse to answer anything I feel you do not need to know. I am the doctor here, Miss. Understood?"

(P1) nods, "Of course, Dr." She says as if that's at all fair given you can't choose not to answer anything.

Smith smiles softly and finishes his paper, putting it neatly in the folder and folding his hands together on his desk, "What do you want to ask me, Miss?"

You caught the tail end of that sentence and were unsure how long (P1) had been in the front, the confusion must have shown on your face because Smith prompted you once again, "You wanted to ask me something, Miss."

"Oh, yes, I just… I wanted to know about your work, I guess."

The red eyes of the man light up, "Oh, oh! Yes of course, I'd love to tell you about my work, let me get some of my papers!" The Doctor jumps up from his seat and begins going through his filing cabinets, pulling out files and papers and a few stray documents, laying them out before you, he sets another picture on the top an old warn, yellowed black and white picture. This one of a young man with dark hair and soft eyes and big chunky glasses, he was holding a certificate standing with two older people, parents maybe, and something was in the background, something, tall, something wrong. "Let me tell you about my mentor, and then I'll tell you about patient Zer0."

"Your mentor? Your dad or-"

"No, Him." Smith cut you off pointing to the thing in the background, the wrong, the tall, the suit, no face, but yet you can feel the gaze.

"Who… is he?" You ask quietly.

"A genius. Old old creature, nameless and timeless and godlike. He takes muses every so often, teaches them, sometimes he becomes attached to them, and keeps them, but it's dangerous for him to stay too long without claiming them, as he sometimes gives people cancer, but nevertheless, he gave me a gift, a chance to perform my studies unknown and unhindered in exchange for offering my assistance when called to deal with the underlings." Everything he says is a little confusing, but interesting in a way you aren't sure about. Smith takes out a new picture of a young boy laying in a hospital bed. "This is Patient Zer0. He was the first participant in my studies, the opportunity given to me by my Mentor."

"He's a child-"

"Patient Zer0 was gifted to me already deceased if that makes you feel better. I didn't kill him, my only task was to figure the cause of death, it was bleeding in the lungs, he drowned in his own blood, poor thing too. He was a potential muse of my Mentor, he chooses them young, for reasons I'm unaware of, but, Patient Zer0 failed to survive the toxicity and died at age eight. But that's just the first part of the story…"

"And what's the rest?" You ask, intrigued in a strange way.

Smith smiles, grinning ear to ear, "I'll tell you all about it next time." He points to the clock on the wall. It's 10:00pm.

"I'll see you next Friday."

"9:00pm on the dot." You say, standing up from your chair. Smith walks you to the door, your Alters are quiet.

"I'll see you then."

You step outside and carefully return home.


	3. I Think I'm F-Falling For You

You were, excited? Yes, excited, strangely so, to meet with Smith again, to hear more about his studies, to let him study you. It was weird, very weird, that you were suddenly so okay with it, because it shouldn't be okay. You know that because your Alters were doing their best to keep you far, far away, it was their purpose to keep you safe, to keep you alive, after what happened when you were young…

Still, you couldn't help ignoring them, as you got ready for your appointment, looking through your closet for something that was formal, but casual. You settle for a nice (f/c) blouse and a pair of clean unripped jeans. You look in the mirror, you didn't know why you were trying so hard.

It didn't matter, you were waiting quietly at the corner listening to your Alters tell you why you shouldn't be here, and pointedly not moving at all.

"Miss, early again! You must be enjoying our time together." Smith purrs at you, suddenly by your side. He looks down at you, your clothes, your presence, you but the look in his eyes is hard to place.

You swallow, "Well, I," You don't get to finish.

"Don't be posh, Miss, I know you don't really want to be here, but I don't mind. I've even set aside time to continue my story from last time, once we finish the general things." He says and leads you back to his lab, and his office, and sets you down and takes his seat after gathering your papers.

Smith procured pictures of you this time, all through his file, as he asks you questions and files the papers away you see them. A picture of you as a child, a picture of you in primary school, a picture of you at Prom, a picture of you leaving your house… this morning. It makes you uneasy, how he got these, who he got them from, if he's been stalking you, the pictures are on paper, they look photo copied, actually, don't you have that picture from prom in the photo album your friend gave you? Has he been in your house? You start to panic suddenly, but before the panic can settle into an attack, (P3) takes over and soothes you. She looks up at Smith as he's writing something down, "You've been in our house." It's not a question or an accusation, it's a fact.

"Yes," Smith doesn't hesitate, he is not ashamed. He fixes his glasses, "Is there a problem Miss?" He asks with a smile.

"You've been stalking us."

Smith shakes his head, "Stalking is not the right word, stalking implies something malicious, an obsession, I am not obsessed with you, I am studying you. So I'd like to know your daily routine, when your doctor's appointments are, what's in your medicine cabinet. I would also like to inform you that I touched nothing inappropriate, my search was purely clinical. I did take several photos, but I've already returned them."

"You know that's creepy and invasive, whether or not you think you "touched nothing inappropriate" or not." (P3) says calmly.

Smith narrows his eyes, "I would like to continue talking with (Y/n), give her back please."

You blink, the file closed on Smith's desk when you look, Smith himself looks rather annoyed. "Did I do something?" You ask quietly. 

Smith softens, "No, Miss, not at all, in fact, I wanted to continue telling you about my work."

You perk up right away, "Yes, of course, you've got me surely fascinated."

He smiles at you softly, "Well I do love my work." He gets up to get his files out once again and show them to you. He pulls out a new picture, of patient Zer0, alive. "This was taken postmortem, of patient Zer0."

"But he's,"

"Alive? No, he isn't. He is awake, but he is not alive. I managed to wake him for several minutes after his examination, but sadly he didn't stay awake and he returned to death soon after, but my mentor was extremely pleased with my abilities, and soon asked me to wake more for him. I've gotten very good at it, in fact, several of his workers are ones that I've awoken." He pulls out more pictures, one of a man who was tall and blond, he was scruffy and his eyes were blue/green, the other of a man who was shorter, heavier, he had dark hair, sideburns, and dark eyes. "These are two of the most recent. Mr. Thomas and Mr. Wright were brought to me several years ago, Mr. Thomas had broken his back in a fall and died, and Mr. Wright had killed himself due to traumatic events happening in his life. I woke both of them, and they are still awake."

You take in the information, it was so strange, but it was so intriguing, you look up at Smith with big (e/c) eyes, he's engrossed with his work, still taking, animatedly using his hands, showing you pictures of more people he's reanimated for his mentor and telling you whether or not they were still awake and if they weren't telling you why and if he might wake them again. You listen to him closely, fascinated with it. The passion he shows is mesmerizing, he is so dedicated to it.

It hardly crosses your mind that this man was not a good man, not a good doctor, performing an unethical practice, kidnapping people, cutting them open, killing them. He threatened to kill you should you not cooperate with him. But that was all very far away.

Instead, you smiled and listened, asking more questions, until it was time for you to leave, you get to the door and stop.

"Smith?" You ask.

The man looks at you as he opens the door, "Yes, Miss?"

You blush darkly, not sure what it was you wanted to ask but, "Would you like to grab dinner some time?" You blurt out.

Smith looks very surprised, looking at you, then away from you and at the door, the ceiling, you, away. "Oh, um, my, that's very… I um, that might be um, I um," You'd never seen the man so unsure before, and you start to think maybe that was the wrong thing to say, but luckily for you, "Yes, Miss, I would like to… go to dinner, with you." He finally manages to say, not looking at you in his nervousness.

You smile, "How about seven, Friday, we can go before the appointment."

He looks back at you and nods, "Sure, sure. I'll make a reservation. And, I, will wear something nice." He says. "Goodbye, Miss, I will see you Friday."

You smile, "See you." You wave as you walk down the steps then turn to head home, happy.


	4. CrushCrushCrush

It's Friday night and you are going on a date. A real date. Not a high school date or a middle school dance, a real date, to a nice restaurant with a man that you liked…

 _He's a stalker, he's going to dissect you, you should run far far away and call the police!_ (P2) hisses at you, as you pick out a nice dress from your closet.

 _I really don't think this is safe, (Y/n), Smith is a bad man… you saw what he did to those people, he has pictures…_ (P1) says softly, as you look in the mirror to fix your hair.

_If you really want to go through with this,_

"I do," You say as you pull on your shoes, a cute pair of comfortable flats.

 _-then know we are still here to keep you safe._ (P3) says to steady you.

You sigh, picking up your bag, you look in the mirror one last time and smile a bit before heading out.

Your walk to the usual spot is quiet, the crisp March air just starting to get warmer as the month draws to a close. It's strange to think a month has passed, and you've spent your Friday night's being questioned by Smith and stranger to think that you had been kidnapped a month ago and you were now going on a date with the man who kidnapped you…

 _I said it before, I'll say it again, kick him in the balls and run._ (P2) huffs.

"I'm not going to kick him, (P2)! That's ridiculous, it's just dinner, calm down." You hush the alter, as you come up to the corner where you'd meet Smith.

At seven on the dot, Smith calls out to you, "Miss," he was smiling, wearing a clean pressed white button up and neat black blazer, along with a wine red tie and black slacks. He pauses, looking at you, in your favorite dress, which fluttered around your knees, "You look lovely, Miss." He says quietly.

Blushing you look away, "Thank you…"

Smith hums and offers his arm, "Dinner, shall we?" He nods down the sidewalk and you take his arm, letting him lead you to your destination.

The walk is pleasant, even with Smith's constant questioning, it's almost endearing in a way, and he does stop when you squeak and hide your face, as this wasn't the appointment. He apologizes a few moments later for asking something "personally sensitive" and "mildly inappropriate". You forgive him, but ask him not to do it again.

Dinner is, nice. Smith orders wine for you both, and shushed you when you express concern about the expense, telling you price is of no concern to him. You talk quietly over wine and bread and Smith suggests things on the menu for you, but when it comes time to order Smith takes none of his own suggestions rather his exact order is, "The steak, rare. I want it to bleed when I cut it." The waiter seems unconcerned about it, but it makes you shiver.

"You know that's dangerous."

"Hmm?"

"Having uncooked meat."

Smith smiles, his teeth sharp and white and perfectly in line, "I can't really eat much else."

You furrow your brow, "What do you mean?"

"My mentor granted me my immortality, to continue my studies indefinitely, and to help him should he ask me, but immortality is quite pricey. I lost my ability to eat ages ago, my body just forgot how to. I've managed to convince it if I eat something raw enough," the thought of all the people that Smith has dissected comes to mind, all that fresh meat, you shove the thought away, "but anything else I will be forced to throw up. Which is a feat as well, as I don't have a functional gag reflex and have to resort to other triggers to make sure nothing is rotting inside me." At the face you make Smith blushes, "Was that too much information?" He asks sheepishly.

"Just a little bit." You say softly. You look away from him and then back, "Smith, are you human?"

"I was once, but I don't think I am anymore, and I don't think I have been for a very long time. It just happened so slowly I didn't notice it until it had already happened."

"Do you miss being human?"

"No. Well… no, my answer is no." Smith says and takes a sip of his wine, "There isn't anything I particularly miss of being human, I don't miss food, or sleep, or aging. I don't miss feeling as much as I thought I might, maybe because I can't remember feeling much of anything. I don't miss bleeding… I guess, when I stopped bleeding is when I really noticed I wasn't human anymore, but I'd been a monster long before that." The man says softly.

There was something heartbreaking in his words, the empathy they caused you to feel, the horror in losing one's humanity so slowly they don't notice at all until it's gone. "I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"That you think you're a monster." You don't look at Smith when you say it, but you can feel him looking at you.

"Miss, I was always a monster. That's what they told me. Thought I was a demon, or a ghoul, or fey, because I was born with red eyes, always had those. I wanted to know things, and I asked strange questions and my room was covered in crucifixes because they said I was unholy. And I would dissect animals as a child and keep things I woke as pets and stare at people from the window and remind them that adultery was a sin. They didn't like me. Because I was never one of them, I don't think I was ever supposed to be human, and I was born one by mistake. I don't mind though, I have surpassed those who wanted to burn me at the stake, and I didn't have to be a demon to do it."

When Smith finished your food was brought out, hindering your ability to ask more, learn more about him. You did learn more about the time he was born in, and you guessed he was probably 200 or so years old, if he was born in the United States at least, it's possible he was born somewhere in England before that, but sometime around then would have been very religiously driven, and likely to punish difference.

Dinner is quiet, you eat and he eats and talk is kept light after all of that.

After Dinner the two of you are walking down to Smith's building, "Miss, could I ask about your childhood tonight, I've neglected it, it seems. We haven't talked about what causes your condition." He says.

You are about to open your mouth when it goes dark.

"No. We won't tell you about that. She doesn't remember and you don't need to know." (P3) says even and cold.

The doctor looks over at you on his arm, and new rigidness about your posture. "Sure, sure. I'll find out on my own, then." He says, and that is the end of it.


	5. Heart to Heart

You have started going to dinner with Smith every Friday. He takes you to nice places, new places, places that you've never heard of, but it's always fun. You try new food and weird food and food from places you couldn't point out on a map, and Smith watches you fondly over his plate of meat that is as raw as he could convince the cooks to make it.

The blush on your face when you realize that Smith is looking at you fondly is dark and confused. Looking at him with a feeling you didn't know. Did Smith like you?

 _No._ (P3) says with a sense of finality.

You set your jaw, "Smith?" You ask.

Smith smiles slightly, his red eyes are soft, "Yes Miss?"

Your mouth goes dry suddenly and you don't feel as confident as you just did, the fear of rejection and not knowing how you feel about Smith either makes you lose your voice. You stare at Smith for a minute trying to come up with words to say and finding nothing.

"Miss?"

With nothing else to say you blurt out the first question in your mind. "Do you go to the bathroom?"

Smith looks startled at your question, becoming flustered, "That's… not appropriate Miss-"

"You asked me if my periods were regular." You interrupt him.

Smith huffs, "I'm a doctor,"

"I'm going to guess that you do because you're so flustered." You smirk up at him.

Smith pointedly does not look at you, "Very rarely. I prefer to just throw up if I eat. I usually do after you leave…" he says looking very pointedly at his plate.

You look at him, blinking at him, your expression becoming pinched, "You know… You don't need to eat if it makes you uncomfortable."

The man looks back at you, "It would be rude of me not to eat with you."

You shake your head, "No it isn't, I… don't want you to have to do that, just for me." You say quietly.

Smith hums, "I don't mind, Miss, really."

It's quiet for a time, and conversation continues after normally. When you are walking back to Smith's building after dinner, you're holding his arm like always, it's quiet and a nice night. After a minute Smith speaks.

"I have the feeling that wasn't what you really wanted to ask me at dinner." He says, matter-of-factly.

You blush, "You read me so well…" He smirks at you. "I… I've been thinking," You start softly. "Do… Do you like me?" You ask.

Smith stops walking suddenly, turning his head to look at you, narrowing his eyes, scanning you like you are a particularly difficult diagnosis. Your face warms more as he doesn't say anything still. Then he softens smiling down at you, "Miss, do you know what you're asking me?" He says it like a question, but you don't get to answer him. "I fear that I will not be able to give an answer you would like no matter what I tell you. And, I don't think you are entirely genuine in the matter," he starts walking once more.

"I don't understand what you mean?"

Smith looks away from you, "No, you don't." His words are firm. "You couldn't understand the world I live in, you would surely vomit at the sight of it. You are enraptured by my stories, my expensive taste, maybe you find my interest in you to be endearing. But, you don't know what you are asking for. You don't know the jar of leeches you've just dropped onto the floor, do you know what happens when you drop a jar of leeches on the floor? Chaos. Glass, blood, leeches, everywhere. I have let you ask much of me, Miss, but I cannot allow you to ask this of me… I. I will only hurt you. Too many variables, too many mistakes to make, my mentor would have a fit, you will not be stable. I know very well what the others think of me. And, you should know that our relationship was formed because I kidnapped you and strapped you to an operating table, Miss. Don't fool yourself."

It is your turn to stop now, making Smith look back at you. "No."

"Excuse me?"

"I said no. I'm not taking that for an answer. I don't accept it. You care about me." You say, with your chin up high and eyes set on his.

Smith squares his shoulders, "I care about my research-"

"That's not the whole truth." You press.

"Miss, you don't understand-"

"Then help me understand!" You yell.

You both stare at each other for a long moment, letting the silence hang in the air once again as you stand in the empty street.

"I am a monster, (Y/n)."

You take a step closer to the man before you, reaching up and touching his face, "No, you are a man. No matter how inhuman you think you are…"

"You don't know me, (Y/n). You've never seen what I do." He says, trying desperately to put up a front.

"I don't care." You say firmly, your alters protest, but you hold strong.

Smith takes a breath and drops his shoulders, "What am I supposed to say, Miss?"

"Do you like me?"

"I couldn't tell you no."

You smile softly, "I like you too."


End file.
